


Parfait

by perennials



Category: Gintama
Genre: Drabbles, M/M, it's romantic if you squint, practically nonexistent romantic undertones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:16:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5296280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perennials/pseuds/perennials
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Though he'd be loath to admit it, Gintoki's presence is something he's grown increasingly fond of over the years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parfait

**Author's Note:**

> Written based on the prompt "parfait" from Anonymous on tumblr. Not beta-read by anybody but a very sick me from bed on vacation. Please forgive any glaring errors and the likes.
> 
> I don't own Gintama or its characters- everything belongs to Sorachi.

Katsura buys Gintoki a parfait every once in a while. Not because he's particularly financially well-off, mind you, nor is it in any part because he wishes to see Gintoki's blood sugar-levels skyrocket any further- he's got his own reasons.

The thing is, Gintoki's busy these days. He has two kids and a dog and an endless stream of who-knows-what-sort-of work constantly flowing in from all ends of the Earth. He has insane villains to fight, roofs to fix, badass heroic speeches to make. Katsura rarely sees him around anymore, if ever, and it doesn't help that he's been on standby since the Benizakura arc all those years ago, demoted from tragic (and badass!) figure to Mr. comedy relief. Even word of Gintoki's titular achievements and outrageous misdeeds finds it way to him more often than the man himself. Their meetings have been reduced to short, stilted exchanges at convenience stores and fleeting looks of recognition when they pass each other by in the streets, casual greetings and hasty good-byes.

Though he'd be loath to admit it, Gintoki's presence is something he's grown increasingly fond of over the years.

So Katsura buys Gintoki a parfait. Laughs loudly and generously in a way largely reminiscent of Sakamoto, sticks his hands in the sleeves of his haori, and acts like he's doing Gintoki a favor (which he is, really, if the man's wallet is anything to go by) and not the other way around.

And Gintoki, as per his usual self, doesn't open his mouth to so much as ask Katsura _why,_ exactly, he's been dragged to this generic family diner and offered a sumptuous strawberry parfait for the third time this month. His face simply lights up like a ray of glorious sunshine as he shovels spoonful after spoonful of sugary-sweet cream, strawberries, and corn flakes into his mouth.

While Gintoki eats, Katsura crosses his fingers, rests his chin on the small bridge formed between them, and stares. He lets his gaze wander: there is a glint of sunlight on Gintoki's eyelashes, a splash of gold on the curve of his neck, slender fingers wrapped around the parfait cup's base. For a second it seems even his (irksome) chewing has faded into the background. There's a smudge of ice cream at the very tip of his nose, and Katsura absentmindedly thinks that he should wipe it off with a napkin, as his vision blurs and his eyes begin to droop-

"Zura. Zura. Oi, ZURA."

"Huh?" Jolted out of his midday reverie, Katsura jumps in his seat.

"As I was saying, what'd you call me out for? Bakasugi on the move again? Got new plans to overthrow the government?" Gintoki inquires half-seriously with cherry-red lips. The tall glass in his hand has been entirely emptied and the spoon licked clean.

The little white dot on Gintoki's nose has been joined by a strawberry-colored stain at the edge of his mouth, and likewise Katsura's urge to clean them both off has doubled in strength. He chooses not to answer, instead leaning across the table and swiping at Gintoki's face with his napkin. Satisfied, Katsura returns to his previous position (crossed arms, straight back) and replies with a hint of amusement, "I have no underlying intentions, Gintoki. Is it so strange for me to want to chat with an old acquaintance over tea?"

Gintoki chuckles. " _Just_ an acquaintance?"

"Or _friend,_ if you'd prefer." Katsura clears his throat.

"Mmm," he hums amiably. "Zura's my _friend_."

"It's not Zura, it's Katsura," he says dismissively (automatically). Gintoki doesn't bother responding.

"Anyway, would you like another parfait?"

Gintoki narrows his eyes suspiciously at him. "You still treating?"

"Yeah."

Gintoki waves down a waiter and orders a Strawberry Delight Supreme with extra sauce and dango as Katsura glances out the window, shielding his eyes from the sun's glare.

"Lovely weather today, isn't it?"

"Uhuh. You gonna keep treating me like this?"

"Mmm."

"Can your wallet handle the weight of Gin-san's monstrous eating habits?"

"Mmm."

"You're surprisingly kind-hearted for an infamous, bomb-wielding terrorist."

"I know."

Gintoki's smile is warm like a ray of sunshine, saccharine sweet like chocolate syrup, and almost worth the ragged, gaping hole in Katsura's wallet. Almost.

**Author's Note:**

> Currently on vacation in Japan with limited wifi, so I squeezed in some time to get a little bit of writing (sinning) (trash fic making) done.  
> This is short, and boring, and trash. I am also trash. But, well, hope you enjoyed it, I guess.


End file.
